


rusted brandy (in a diamond glass)

by fleurting



Category: Push (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:05:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurting/pseuds/fleurting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's seventeen when she shows up on his doorstep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rusted brandy (in a diamond glass)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here.

She's seventeen when she shows up on his doorstep. Her hair's darker, legs longer, but her eyes still look the same.

She doesn't offer to help with the paper grocery bags in his hands, and there's a cigarette hanging from her lips that she never lights. She doesn't say anything as she follows him inside, sits across the island in the kitchen as he stirs basil into a pot of boiling red sauce. When it's finished he sets a plate in front of each of them, sprinkles a mound of Parmesan on his, and protests when she grabs a handful off his plate and deposits it right into her mouth with her fingers.

He stares at her, unable to keep his emotions in check.

She chews slowly, stares back at him until she's finished, asks "What?"

He shakes his head, mutters, "Missed you."

She smirks at him and asks where he keeps the liquor.

\----------------------------------------------------

She's twenty one she shows up again.

In his bedroom, opening up a coat to reveal her in lingerie and saying please.

"Cass."

"Nick." Her voice tries to imitate his, mocking and sarcastic but it cracks at the last note and is broken and shrill as she says, _"Please."_

He gets up and wraps his arms around her, and she doesn't fight, just sags against him, breath coming in short uneven gasps as she sobs. He rubs his hand up and down the smooth expanse of her back, tries not to look at how the red of the lingerie makes the blue and purple all over her body flash against her skin.

\----------------------------------------------------

She's twenty-five when she finds him bed in with someone (blonde, pale, skin smooth as stone).

Later, he finds her in the living room, sitting in the armchair, the TV creating a blue glow on her bare legs. She's wearing a flannel shirt that's too big for her and isn't his.

There's a cigarette in between her lips.

It's lit.

\----------------------------------------------------

She's twenty-nine when he fucks her for the first time.

She's clumsy at first, too hurried, too fast. She tries to take him in her mouth, he stops her, and she looks up at him as if she's afraid he's telling her no. He runs his fingers through her hair and she closes her eyes, a look of contentment that makes her seem young. Younger than he's ever known her. Happier too.

He takes her slowly, cherishes her. Kisses each freckle on her cold, white skin. Traces each curve with the kindest hands. Enters inside her the gentlest push. Says I love you only after it's over.

She tries to leave, after.

He lightly grabs her wrist, ready to beg her not to go. She laughs, swats his hand away, and tells him she needs to take a piss. When she crawls back in she faces him, he fingers the hem of the shirt she's put on (his). He stares at her, sweat still creating a sheen on her face, blonde hair frizzy and held loosely back by a hair band.

"I'm not going anywhere," she says.

He kisses her.

"Good."


End file.
